


Sunshine

by brimfulofasher



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.3 spoilers, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Female Roegadyn (Final Fantasy XIV), The Bozja Incident spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brimfulofasher/pseuds/brimfulofasher
Summary: Convinced to take a detour to Kugane after the dealings in Gangos, Cid has much on his mind.
Relationships: Cid nan Garlond/Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Sunshine

The rain hasn't stopped since they arrived in Kugane. Oppressively humid, heavy- fitting for his present gloomy mood following that brief sojourn to Gangos, then.

He's not sure how long he's been stood in the kitchen of Utha's quaint little apartment, leaning against the frame of the open window in the hopes of catching even a hint of a breeze that might soothe his restlessness, but no such luck yet. Watching the downpour cloud the gardens below, Cid gives a heavy sigh. His fingers move to fidget with the medallion at his chest out of habit, but finds nothing; it's still tucked away at the bottom of his satchel on the table behind him, its' fate uncertain. Instead, his hand moves to his belly, gingerly tracing the puckered scar just below his chest.

It's not the only mark on him, nor the only bullet wound; Gaius' generous parting gift from years past has left him with a particularly temperamental shoulder in the winter. But somehow he'd overlooked the more significant injury- assumed it'd come about in the wake of Dalamud's fall, when he first forgot himself. He'd not counted on its' origin being far closer to home.

Though he runs over it with the lightest of touches, he still grits his teeth as if expecting it to burn. There's no phantom pain this time, no blood on his fingers as he draws his hand away to look at it; just the ache in his chest every time he thinks of the truth. That his father couldn't have been stopped no matter how hard he tried does little to assuage the guilt that's plagued him all this time nor does the fact that though he clearly wasn't in his own mind, to recall the cold indifference on Midas' face as he drew the pistol on him is crushing.

He'd known his father to be many things- single-minded, stubborn, absent at worst- but never so cruel as to do something like that. Yet it's still his face he sees staring down the barrel when he closes his eyes and it's no less heartbreaking than thinking Midas had simply abandoned him to a lost cause. He almost wishes that were still the case.

Taking in a shuddering, deep breath to calm himself, Cid tightens his grip on the windowsil, head bowed. The shower outside has lessened, but his face is soaked regardless.

"Cid?"

The door to the bedroom has slid open, Utha stood in the doorway and watching him with a furrowed brow, worried. Sniffling, he roughly dries his face with the back of his hand, though clearly there's no hiding it from the Roegadyn.

"I'm fine, really-" Cid finally stammers as she walks over to him, throat painfully dry but Utha cups his face in her palm while looking at him evenly and he leans into her hand, fingers trembling a little as they close around her wrist. He knows he needn't keep it from her, that even if she'd not been at his side unraveling the mess in his head, she understands the hurt better than anyone. Still, he doesn't like to burden her with more than he has to and it's not until she draws him against her chest that he realises he's crying again; whimpering, pitiful tears until all that's left are hoarse sobs that make his whole body shake with the effort of taking another breath, sharp in his chest like broken glass. 

He never did give himself much of a chance to mourn before; it felt self-indulgent in the wake of so much loss at their hands and his anger at the empire's callousness overtook his grief. But here, every conflicted feeling he's ever had about Midas comes spilling out until he's hollow, only held together by Utha curling herself around him, as if to shield him once more.

Eventually he goes still, save for his ragged, shallow breathing. Utha's hand is in his hair, gently brushing it away from his damp brow where she leans in to kiss his face, promising that he's safe now. He keeps a tight grip on her forearm with both hands, burrowed into her. 

After a moment, she gingerly leads him over to the table and sits him down on the bench. Numb, Cid barely registers her leaving him to fetch something, only hearing the padding of bare feet on wood and cupboards being opened. He looks up on hearing something being placed on the table; a tall, amber bottle and two small glasses.

"Bit early for that, isn't it?" He croaks, even managing the slightest of smiles. Utha smiles back, shaking her head as she pulls out the cork and pours them a dram each- or two, in her case.

"Not if it's medicinal." She says softly, handing him a glass and Cid nods faintly, swirling the whiskey contemplatively before knocking it back in one and Utha's already pouring them both another before he even has to ask.

They drink in companionable silence and when he's had his fill, Cid shuffles along the bench to sit himself between her knees with his back to her chest, where she slips an arm around him, resting her head in the crook of his neck after kissing his cheek.

"How do you do it?" He finally asks, so quietly he's not sure if she heard him.

"Do what?" Utha murmurs sleepily, drawing herself around him a little more, fingers gently running along his arm in circles.

"Cope," He says, a hand at the side of his head as though bearing a great weight. "With all of this."

Without missing a beat, she pointedly waves the whiskey bottle in front of him and Cid snorts, shaking his head.

"That can't be just it…"

"It helps to be a little numb, sometimes." She says, very softly. "The Echo isn't the lightest burden to carry."

"No, I can't imagine it is." Cid replies, softer still. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be asking daft questions like this."

He turns in her arms, reaching up to cup her cheek. She doesn't look back at him, eyes downcast and he frowns.

"It's not daft," She says, solemn. "I just haven't found an answer yet either."

With a slight sigh, Cid sits up on his knees and draws her face closer to his before pressing the lightest of kisses to the top of each of her cheeks, her eyelids, up to the bridge of her nose before pressing his brow to hers, his arms around her neck. She's still avoiding his eyes, but he spies her lips curling a little and he feels a tad more settled by the sight.

"But," She murmurs, tilting her head to nudge her nose against his, broad hands settling on his waist. "Somehow I don't mind not knowing right now."

Cid nods his agreement, smiling when she at last lifts her gaze and he notices the rain has stopped when the sunlight beaming in through the open window warms the deep dark of her eyes, skin turned from jade to bright gold and the freckles speckled across her nose and cheeks become clearer.

It brings to mind how he felt the first time he met her; a calm sort of stillness came over him in her presence. In spite of the tragedy that had pushed her through the doors of the church, bruised and alone, she still took a moment to listen to- even fought to protect- a complete stranger. After so many years in Eorzea, he's still hesitant to trust in unseen forces, but perhaps Hydaelyn has done something right in guiding Her champion onto his path, however indirectly. For that, he will ever be grateful.

He's drawn from his musing when Utha gasps suddenly, head bowed and a hand steadying herself on his shoulder. But there's a marked absence of the discomfort that usually accompanies her visions, her expression decidedly serene when she slowly raises her head again. 

"What do you see, my love?" He asks softly, though he knows she can't hear him. Her eyelids flutter, a smile on her face that only seems to grow as the moment goes on. 

Eventually, her hand relaxes and she straightens up, breathing out slowly.

"Are you alright?" 

Utha nods, her free hand roughly running through her hair. Her face is flushed and the grin has yet to fade as she looks back at him. Cid can't help but smile back, though he's curious as to what has suddenly cheered her so. He's about to ask when she dips down and kisses him, slow and meaningfully, cradling his face in her hands.

He stares up at her in a slight daze when she pulls back.

"What did you see?" He finally manages, breathless and a tad bemused.

Utha considers his question for a moment, thumb thoughtfully running over his cheek.

"An answer."

  
  
  



End file.
